


What Time Is For

by DrunkGerbil



Series: It's catching [2]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Epic Friendship, Established Relationship, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Love, M/M, Major Character Injury, Richard Hammond's Crash, botswana special
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrunkGerbil/pseuds/DrunkGerbil
Summary: Richard is deathly pale, his face bruised, his forehead swollen. The machines surrounding his bed claim that he's alive, but looking at him Jeremy has a hard time believing it.The doctors and nursing staff are kind, and don't question why he is next of kin. Jeremy is sure they have it figured out the second they see him crumbled at Richard's side, anyway.It surprises him a little, how much that doesn't bother him, when even yesterday the prospect of strangers knowing about them would have sent him running. Priorities change, he thinks dumbly, and traces a finger over the unbruised side of Richard's face.
Relationships: Jeremy Clarkson/Richard Hammond
Series: It's catching [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112729
Comments: 11
Kudos: 14





	What Time Is For

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to Mad About You

It’s a nice day, weather wise. Surprising, considering it's late september and Britain. Warm and sunny in the afternoon, and Jeremy had enjoyed it earlier while filming on the track.  
Now the sun’s setting, painting the sky all shades of red and orange and blue. A poet could ramble on about it for pages, and James would gladly read it and then quote it at them, even through all the abuse he'd have to suffer. 

It _is_ unfairly pretty, is the point. 

Not that Jeremy sees any of it, now. His head is filled with static, his eyes glued to the road. The radio is turned off, because it told him things he couldn’t bear to hear. 

Only occasionally do his thoughts stray from the strange, numb place they have gone when Andy called. 

They wander to yesterday evening, when he had Richard splayed on the kitchen table, shirt open and framing his heaving torso, trousers completely gone. The way Richard shivered under his hands, moaned when Jeremy pushed into him.  
Afterwards he had to fish Richard’s pants from where they landed on top of the refrigerator, breathless laughter on his lips, and stupidly happy. 

Or to this morning, when Hammond left the house with a bounce in his step, the sheer force of his excitement carrying him out of the door at quarter past six with a blinding smile on his face. 

Or to this afternoon, when Jeremy looked at his phone, noted that there were no new texts from the Hamster since the giddy voicemail at noon, and wrote the message, “Since I haven’t heard from you yet, I can only assume you are dead.”

Prophetic words, maybe. He doesn’t dare turn on the radio to check.

~

Richard is deathly pale, his face bruised, his forehead swollen. The machines surrounding his bed claim that he's alive, but looking at him Jeremy has a hard time believing it. 

The doctors and nursing staff are kind, and don't question why he is next of kin. Jeremy is sure they have it figured out the second they see him crumbled at Richard's side, anyway.  
Maybe they are too professionell to ask. Maybe they don't really care. In the end, he is their patient's legal medical proxy, and that’s what matters. 

It surprises him a little, how much that doesn't bother him, when even yesterday the prospect of strangers knowing about them would have sent him running. Priorities change, he thinks dumbly, and traces a finger over the unbruised side of Richard's face.

~

It's strange how surreal the days on the ICU feel. Like the dreams you are caught in just before waking that go on forever but only last a few minutes.  
The passing of time is marked by visitors coming through. Hammond’s parents and brothers, mainly, who all start crying when they see Richard for the first time, setting Jeremy off as well. 

James, who doesn’t really count as a visitor, because he is as much part of the odd little bubble that is Hammond’s room as Jeremy is.  
James has taken to camping in the chair he’s nicked from the cafeteria until the nurses bully him into leaving every night, only to repeat it the next day. 

Andy, who drops by between phone calls and press conferences to make sure Jeremy has everything he needs, looking more and more frazzled. 

Then Hammond awakes, slowly and suddenly at the same time. He's deeply confused, memories broken, but still fundamentally Richard Hammond. James cries even harder than Jeremy. 

A new rhythm establishes itself. It’s centered around keeping Richard from doing himself an injury. Which is hard, considering he argues with every instruction and forgets all about them five minutes later. Jeremy had mocked him mercilessly when he'd tried to quit smoking a few months ago, but now he would give a leg if only Richard would stop asking for a fag while yanking at the tubes in his arms. 

The crew drop by, too, once they’re allowed. None of them had really been willing to leave until there was an indication that things would be alright again. Jeremy loses count of how many compassionate pats on the shoulder he gets. While their relationship is still a secret to everyone who isn’t immediate family (counting James and Andy, obviously), the crew aren't stupid. They have spent the last two years diligently pretending to be blind, deaf and mute, and take everything in stride without comment.

Sadly, the same cannot be said for the press people. 

Some finally manage to stumble upon Jeremy when he’s on the way back to the room after having driven Hammond’s parents to their hotel. Stuck in his head and not looking where he’s going, he takes a wrong turn and enters the lobby. Before he has a chance to escape back into the corridors beyond the entrance area, the vultures are upon him, and bombard him with questions.

“How is he?” chief among them. 

“Better.” Everything is better than what Hammond was that first night. 

But also, “What will happen to Top Gear? Is it cancelled?” 

“No.” Richard will have a show to return to, even if it kills Jeremy. 

And, most annoyingly, “Jeremy, can you tell us why _you_ are Richard’s next of kin?”

It makes him freeze like a deer in the headlights. The dreaded question with a terrifying answer.  
Jeremy remembers the night Hammond had come out publicly all too well. The snap decision to say what he'd said, and the anger that has spurred it on. It was immediately followed by the fear of what his outing would entail. That the reception was a lot better than Richard had ever imagined didn't change the fact that Jeremy quickly learned to understand that fear himself. He is so used to being in the limelight, and suddenly he was terrified of the world knowing the truth before he himself could get to grips with it. 

But that was two years ago. Maybe now is _his_ time to snap.

And so he does.

“I’m his next of kin because I’m his next of kin,” Jeremy practically snarls at the unsuspecting journalist, and storms off.

Before the expected panic has a chance to punch him in the gut, he's intercepted by a nurse. She looks a bit harassed as she tells him that Richard is quite distressed by his absence. Do Jetemy rushes back to the room and spends the next half hour shushing Hammond to sleep. The task demands all his attention. 

Watching over him later, looking small and fragile and so damn young in sleep, Jeremy has a realization. Never in his life has he known fear like when he imagined life after Richard Hammond. So what if the world knows? He simply doesn't give a shit anymore. 

~

Naturally, his statement is all over the front pages the next day. 

~

In the end, they escape to Scotland for a few weeks. Jeremy had been tempted to go to the Isle of Man, but the whole bloody world knows he owns a house there. While the paps usually don't dare go all the way out to the lighthouse, he wouldn't put it past them at the moment. 

The cottage they have rented is a small thing, located in the hills at the edge of a forest. Pretty and idyllic, far off from anyone who could bother them. Richard nearly has a breakdown when they drive up the gravel path and a stranger's car is parked in front of it.  
It's only the owner with the keys. Thankfully, the man doesn't stick around to chat. 

Paranoia has taken the place of the five minute memory, but Jeremy finds it equally hard to deal with. Partially because Hammond is now aware of the problem on a certain level, but unable to shake it. Of course he can't. It's in his brain, after all. Unfortunately, that means the disconnect between what he knows and what he feels is pulling at the seams. 

Jeremy, in turn, nearly has a breakdown when he wakes up one morning of week two, and finds the other side of the bed empty except for a note saying Hammond is out on a run.  
They have talked about it, have gone on walks around the property, but Jeremy has never really let Richard out of his sight for more than ten minutes. He still forgets stuff, from little things like where he put the keys up to big things like where they are and what month it is.  
It’s hard to tell whose nerves are more frayed by that.

Jeremy is struggling into his boots to go outside and look for his wayward idiot when the door opens and Richard comes in, followed closely by Top GearDog. They both stop and look at each other. Richard’s sweaty, Jeremy notes, and his shoes are muddy, so he must have been out on his run. His eyes are red rimmed, but doesn't look hurt. 

Jeremy drops the boot he isn’t wearing and asks carefully, "Alright?" because showing too much concern can easily lead to Hammond feeling babied and losing his temper. 

Richard shrugs, averting his eyes, and is saved from answering when TG starts whining for food. 

~

After Scotland they return to Jeremy’s house in the Cotswolds. During their absence a lot of Richard’s things have found their way over courtesy of James and Richard’s brothers. It’s because the doctors have cautioned Richard several times that he shouldn’t live alone for a while, to which Jeremy immediately replied with, “Of course not, he’s staying with me.” 

They had quite the argument about it afterwards. 

It's not that Richard really _wants_ to be by himself, but the fact that he _can’t_ rankles. It makes him feel weak and childish and broken, and his resulting temper tantrums are biblical. He apologizes sometimes, afterwards. Is in tears because he can't understand why he acts like that, because his brain makes him feel everything with unprecedented intensity, be it anger or fear or regret.  
Sometimes Jeremy is a little glad that Richard still forgets entire stretches of time. 

James drops by every other day like clockwork. The forced break in filming has left his diary wide open, and he feels september in his bones as much as Jeremy does. Soon engine parts take up the kitchen table and lego the coffee table in the living room. Motorbikes clutter in the garage. Jeremy doesn’t complain, because being busy is good for Hammond’s mood and the fiddly work is good for his brain. The help is also nice.

James braves the temper tantrums with unmatchable patience. Where Jeremy sometimes has to leave the room or even the house in order to stop himself from saying things he would regret, James lets Hammond go until he runs out of steam, calls him a cock, and then they simply return to whatever they were doing before the meltdown.  
Only later does Jeremy catch glimpses of how much James is affected, too. He leaves early sometimes, pleading other engagements, and sits in his car around the corner for up to an hour. Jeremy brings him a cup of tea, once or twice, hands it through the window without looking at James’ face. 

Personality changes are two scary words that haunt them both, even as they assure each other that it’s temporary. Hammond’s brain is healing. All they need is give it time. 

~

Top Gear starts up again, way too early. Hammond insists, and Jeremy has promised.  
His return is triumphant, at least in front of the cameras. Behind the scenes it looks a bit differently. He needs a power nap during break, and after the audience has left they go home instead of celebrating. Hammond lets Jeremy drive, even though he’s allowed again, and promptly falls asleep in the passenger seat.

Home. Richard has made no mention of planning on leaving again. In fact, his things have migrated to all over the house. His motorbikes populate the disused barn on the property, his 911 is parked up front for the world to see. Jeremy doesn’t dare mention it, lest he jinxes it. 

So things _are_ improving. Slowly. Way slower than either of them would like. There is so much turmoil in Hammond’s head still, and when he becomes too depressed, Jeremy has to remind him of how much worse it could have been.  
When they are in their bed in the dark, he speaks of how fucking grateful he is that there _is_ something to get better, that this is so much more than he would ever have expected that first night in the hospital. Sometimes it settles Richard down. Sometimes they both cry. Sometimes they love each other desperately. 

And with every passing week, things keep improving. 

~

Filming for the polar special is so horrible that Jeremy buys Richard a Ferrari 550. Richard goes bonkers over it. There’s fawning and gushing and literal squealing. He makes the drive to his brothers just to show off on the same weekend, and Jeremy stays behind and pats himself on the shoulder, because there’s a glimpse of the spark that’s been missing from Hammond’s eyes. 

It's only in Botswana when he realizes that the spark is back completely. Not full time, because some things will be changed forever, but more and more often.  
He notices first with Oliver, the gritty little Opel Kadett that Richard falls in love with instantly. It seemed like a mad decision, back in England in the office when Hammond got up from his desk and declared, “This is my car,” while pointing at the computer screen. But Andy only shrugged and said, “The car’s only older than you, but if you’re sure.”

“I am,” Richard answered, and the Opel was bought. 

Then the beautiful ease the banter flows with during the gruelling drive across the salt pans. Richard’s endless smugness as the others dig themselves into the soil while little Oliver seems to fly above it is lifting the mood of everyone, even though they are all busy digging out the Lancia for the twenty twelfth time. 

And finally when they’re on Kubu island, doing some scenes before camp is set up. Jeremy notices that Hammond has wandered off from the group, and goes looking for him. They are all in a strange mood, out here where no motorist has ever been before.  
He finds Richard up on the rocks, a hand resting on the bark of a baobab tree, his gaze turned to the setting sun. There is a far away look on his face, but it’s not troubled like they used to be the last few months. Bathed in orange glow against the backdrop of this haunting place, he looks like something out of a myth. It makes Jeremy want to write poetry, and then never show to anyone. 

“How are we doing?” Jeremy asks quietly, because it feels almost blasphemous to speak loudly in this place. It’s a short sentence for all the different questions packed into it, but it has to do. It's impossible to voice all the things he wants to say, but when Richard turns to him, he knows he doesn’t have to.  
Richard looks up at him with soft eyes and a smile that is happy and easy. The kind that makes Jeremy think of heart attacks. 

Richard says, “Good. I think we’re doing really good. Don’t you?” 

“Better than good,” Jeremy answers, breathless, and kisses him.

~

Almost exactly a year after the crash they finally make it public. Not that everybody and their mum hasn’t already guessed. 

James films the video in his living room. The two of them are lounging on the couch, side by side. Jeremy prepares to speak, and makes the mistake of glancing at his partner of three years. Richard is wearing the same grin that took Jeremy’s breath away in the beginning. Happy and blinding and real. Like the cat that got the cream. Like he’s the big winner in this. Jeremy is fairly certain that the title actually belongs to himself, considering everything he nearly lost. Then again, they are both incredibly lucky for many different reasons. If Hammond feels that being with Jeremy Clarkson is something to be smug about, who is he to protest?

So Jeremy turns to the camera, and in his usual bombastic way he declares, “It has happened, everybody. Richard Hammond has infected me with the gay! We now live in a world where James May is the straightest man on Top Gear.”

From behind the camera James gives him the V sign. Life is good.


End file.
